


pas de deux

by washingmachineheart



Category: BoBoiBoy (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But also, Canon Compliant, Fake Marriage, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Sort Of, Yearning, haha - Freeform, hahaha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27346183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/washingmachineheart/pseuds/washingmachineheart
Summary: There's slow dancing, and then there's the rich. Kaizo has to make a choice and splitting his hatred for either.[Or; the one where Kaizo learns to slow dance, and learns some new things about the way the world works.]
Relationships: Kaizo/Ramenman (BoBoiBoy)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	pas de deux

**Author's Note:**

> this isnt edited. my words are now ur problem and what are u going to do about it HA 
> 
> (i'm kidding. its half edited half not, but i'm still appeased with the overall product. i hope u do too xx)

Let’s get one thing straight - Kaizo detested rich people. 

“Our target’s got a penchant for elegance,” Maskmana remarked. He held up the white invitation card Kaizo had received undercover, the gold lettering almost twinkling under the artificial lights of the meeting room that reflected off of them. 

“Not so much for subtlety,” Kaizo muttered. The event was possibly the largest one he would be infiltrating thus far - what was coming up soon would be an auction, set for a night of legal laundering. 

And to top it off - the night would be set to end in a grand ball, or what Kaizo assumed was a bourgeois way of saying ‘afterparty’. 

“Yet he managed to acquire FortuneBot only a while ago.” Maskamana said. 

“But I reckon this ball isn’t one for celebration,” Koko Ci interjected, opening up the card and reading the specifics of the invite. “This is a distraction. You don’t make events this large and public unless you have something to hide.” 

“No,” Kaizo replied. “Jafar Beyzos’ situation is a lot less complex.” 

“How so?” Koko Ci asked. 

“He may have FortuneBot, but he’s not interested in using it. This auction is annual, so the place is going to be full of famous faces or people of his class. I’m sure he’s using it to sell it off to whoever is willing to pay the price.” 

“But you’ll have to be on your toes regardless,” Maskmana reminded. “He’s basically showed off the fact that he’s got a power sphere up for grabs. There’s bound to be people on the Wanted List who’ll find some way to get in there.” Kaizo nodded. Absolutely no objections there. 

“What kind of rich is he?” Koko Ci asked.

“Classic,” Maskmana affirmed, thumbing through Kaizo’s reports of his furtive persona, posing as a potential business contact. “He worked his way up to the top, apparently.” The admiral pulled up a screen, and numerous articles and interviews and even documentaries regarding Beyzos popped up like daisies. 

_A Small Business Venture Has Evolved Into An Empire - Jafar Beyzos’ Life And Insight._

_Meet The Galaxy’s Youngest Self-Made Gajillionaire!_

_This Is: Jafar Beyzos (2056, directed by Zuck. E Berg)_

But as Kaizo quickly learnt - no one earned a million dollars without ensuring many people didn’t get a single one. Witnessing the way Beyzos treated his subjects had been an eye-opener. The harsh living conditions, in spite of the famous and grand 43 trillion mansion. The verbal and physical abuse they hid underneath expensive suits and makeup, that were never properly treated yet they were expected to perform for him all the same. 

And you could best believe Kaizo had seen his fair share of many cruel things. Ranging from near death to experiencing torture first hand. But just thinking about the way people like Beyzos held this power on free reign made his blood boil. 

That was when he felt his leg muscles ache slightly, and he sighed. 

“But as far as ball dancing goes, I’m hopeless. You’d almost be better off sending someone else for this,” he admitted, resisting the urge to give them a good massage. Today’s session hadn’t exactly boded well for his body, even if his instructor insisted he was doing fine. She could have been lying though, given she had been scared to even approach him at first. 

“Your lessons aren’t going well?” Maskmana asked, to which Kaizo shrugged. 

“I’m really not a dancer,” he answered, to which Koko Ci scoffed. 

“You’re not an actor either, but you survived as Kassim for months. And Beyzos believes you’re clean. You’re important.” His insistence took Kaizo by surprise, to which Kaizo grunted. No idea how to respond to that. 

The admiral smirked - or at least it felt like it. “Say thank you to the man, Captain.” 

“With all due respect, sir, I’m not a teenager anymore,” Kaizo snapped back, to which the admiral who raised a hand in defeat, as if to say _oh well._

“Would you mind telling us what’s going wrong with your lessons exactly? You usually pick things up rather quickly.” Maskmana’s tone changed from playful to a more serious one, as if the thought had only properly registered in his head. 

“Maybe this mission shouldn’t be done solo,” Kaizo found himself saying. 

“Are you saying we should get more reinforcements with you on site?” Koko Ci asked, the worry in his voice difficult to contain. “But undercover missions are delicate.” 

“Pause, Koko Ci,” Maskmana interrupted. 

“I don’t think I need _reinforcements_ per se,” Kaizo said. “But it is a ball. There’s bound to be a waltz, or some form of partnered dance at some point. I’ve been learning how to dance on my own. I think… it’d be helpful if I had someone with me.” 

_Ugh._ He hated that this thought even crossed his mind, but the past month spent dancing often felt like they were going to lead to nowhere. He needed some - or more, for the lack of better word - help, even if he hated to admit it. 

“We have three weeks left until the mission,” Koko Ci murmured, still anxious. 

“Three weeks is still three weeks,” Maskmana replied, possibly ruminating behind the mask. “It’s a little ambitious, but we can think of something.” 

“Or some _one?”_ Koko Ci offered, and Kaizo swore there was a glimmer behind the metallic eyes of the admiral. 

“I’ll see what I can do to help fix this,” Maskmana said, the mischief in his tone making Kaizo more anxious than he needed to be. 

“Do you have someone in mind?” Koko Ci asked. 

“I might,” he replied, almost deviously. “But before any of that this needs to be transmitted to them. Hopefully they receive it quickly enough to answer by tomorrow.”

_Transmitted?_ “Are they on a mission right now?” Kaizo asked. He was already beginning to have a bad feeling about this. But a hope that this mystery person would be a TAPOPS member still lingered. 

“You’ll see!” 

  
  


****

  
  


_A partner,_ Kaizo thought, as he stared at his own reflection through the looking glass. 

He observed his own crimson eyes, eyeing his own figure. If it was one thing he did like about dance lessons, was that he could ditch the formal getup. No captain’s clothes, no visors. Justlight clothing and his body in a freer state of being. He was only in a cotton white shirt and lilac pants, though he had it tied securely with a darker purple string. 

The dance lessons had been conducted in the training space, which in hindsight wasn’t exactly the best place for one to learn such a delicate art form. Kaizo had zero expectations for him to be any sort of expert in this in such a short amount of time. Even passing as Kassim had been successful out of sheer luck. He just knew how to lay low, and kept his mouth shut when it needed to be. 

Captain Kaizo usually worked solo. When was the last time he’d gone on a mission with someone else?

Kaizo had stretched, and now he was just waiting. He had been informed that his new partner had agreed to be part of this infiltration, so he had expected no dance instructor to show up. 

They were however, as with Maskmana, a little late. 

Which was odd, given in his mentorship days he had expressed punctuality being important for the most part. So where were they… 

That was when the heavyweight doors of the arena creaked open, and Kaizo turned around. 

“Hello, hello!” 

_Oh god. I know that voice._

He watched as Maskmana entered with a unfortunately familiar face, also dressed in a simpler red and white t-shirt and pants in contrast to his regular uniform. Kaizo recognized him. The tufts of wavy blonde, his shirt a little too nicely snug on his broad shoulders. 

His eyes, a serene deep blue like they had been dipped in the finest paint. They looked right into his own, a knowing smirk creeping across his lips. 

“Goodness. It’s you again,” Ramenman chirped, completely unfazed. Kaizo felt his heart drop into his chest. 

“Hi,” The captain could only croak, cursing the smile that was probably behind Maskmana’s stupid mask. 

“I’d expected a more warm welcome from you.” 

“Yeah, well, I sure as hell didn’t expect to be working with _you,_ ” Kaizo exclaimed, jabbing a finger at his superior. “You asked TEMPUR-A for help?” 

Maskmana shrugged. “We’re allies, and they were perfectly agreeable in sending one of their finest assets to help us.” The blonde nodded rather approvingly at the label of being a _fine asset._

“On such a late notice?” 

“Do you have a problem with this arrangement, Captain Kaizo? Otherwise we could call this off, and have you resume your regular sessions. Though if I can remember correctly, you did mention this assignment would be smoother with a partner.” 

This was guilt-tripping. He would have said blackmail on impulse, though there was nothing Maskmana was really holding him at gunpoint for. Except having to work with _Ramen fucking man_ of all people, who’s smirk was permanantly imprinted across his stupid face witnessing this interaction. 

Hell, maybe this entire set up _was_ blackmail. 

So much for trusting authority. “No, Maskmana. I’ll make this work. Thank you for setting this up for me.” Kaizo said through gritted teeth, to which Ramen laughed at the sight. 

He hadn’t heard that laugh in a while, hadn’t he. 

“Good!” Maskmana clasped his gloved hands together, and turned around by his heel. “I hope this agreement will lead to our success to retrieve FortuneBot, yes? That is our main priority.” 

And Kaizo would ensure he would get that in check. 

****

“So tell me,” Ramen said, as soon as Maskmana had shut the arena doors, hands on his waist. “What seems to be the problem with this dancing shindig, o mighty space rebel?” 

Kaizo cringed. Not that nickname. “Were you not briefed on this beforehand?”

“Oh, I know. I know you can’t dance on your own, and that the instructor was scared to death of you. Geez. Wouldn’t hurt for you to smile sometimes,” Ramen was suddenly right in front of him, cupping his face with one hand and tapping his nose like he was five. 

Kaizo felt the blood in his body rush to his cheeks, and used that instinct to push Ramen off. The blonde landed on his heel, taken aback but not entirely surprised. “What do you care?” 

Ramen sighed. “Still the same old Kaizo.” 

“I didn’t mean to intimidate her.” 

“I know, sweetheart. But when I talked about dancing, I meant what do you want out of having a partner? You have a specific strategy in mind?” 

_Oh. Right._ “Um. If it’s anything I’ve learnt, Beyzos loves the classics.” 

A glint in his eye, eager to learn more. “What sorts?” 

“Beethoven, Mahler, Vivaldi to name a few. Which is why he’s setting up a ball. He’s a pretentious rich bitch who likes this fare of entertainment.” Ramen took all of this in, only raising an eyebrow at Kaizo’s profanity. 

But then again… he’d always been a good listener. Even if it was about work it had been a while since someone seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. 

“So he needs to be distracted,” Ramen observed. “Which would be our point of movement to obtain FortuneBot.” 

“Though I doubt he’ll just air them out in the open. It’s likely to be protected, by him or whoever is auctioning them off.” 

“Of course, of course.” 

“He needs to think we’re just… there, I suppose. If we attract enough attention he might not suspect us - or me, at least - of much.” 

“And another squad might be able to infiltrate on our mark.” 

“That’s the gist of it. But we should be prepared to do some snooping around as well. I doubt it’ll be that easy to pry a robot off people that can profit off using FortuneBot.” 

Ramen raised his hands, as if he were caught in headlights. “Sure, sure. I’m not complaining. It’s a wonderful idea.” 

_Sheesh._ “Thank you.” 

Ramen smiled, a soft one. Kaizo recognised that smile. He had seen it before, many times in their youth. 

And it was beginning to piss him off, just how much he could remember. 

He was hating the way Ramen was smiling at him. He wanted to look away. But anyone could see just how beautiful Ramen was. That was undeniable, and just… a fact. He coughed dismissively, hoping to move past this.

“So… our dance would be the main attraction, yes?” 

God. He had almost forgotten about the prospect of actually having to dance. “Yeah,” Kaizo replied, his voice dropping low. 

“No, I get it. We’re meant to be primary decoys.” Ramen rubbed his hands together, unable to contain his excitement. “Going all _Mr and Mrs Smith_ on a capitalist. I am desperately looking forward to this.” 

Kaizo had no idea what a Mr and Mrs Smith was. Though he wouldn’t bet that sounded like a happy marriage if they had to be associated with this mission. “Now our main dilemma is….” He trailed off, hesitant to finish his own sentence. 

“The dance.” Ramen completed, looking at him expectantly. 

The captain remained silent. If he was being honest, lessons weren’t all that great. He hated dancing, and just _learning_ the basics of the ball dancing had been torture. And now that Ramen was here…. 

That was when he found Ramen standing right in front of him, a knowing look in his blue eyes. 

“Have you ever heard of Pas De Deux?” He asked, his usually bright voice dropping to a low whisper. 

Kaizo was beginning to burn up again, his cheeks gaining color and his back increasing temperature by a tenfold. Ramen’s hand snakes towards his waist gently, though he can feel the hesitation in his fingertips. 

Like they were wordlessly asking him if it was even okay to touch him. 

(And it is.) 

(No, it isn’t.)

( _Fuck._ ) 

“I don’t think so,” he manages, and Ramen smirks once more. 

“Pas De Deux,” his dance partner repeats, as Kaizo finds himself securely in Ramen’s care, a hand on his waist and his palm in Ramen’s other hand. _He is absolutely crazy._

“A dance for two,” Ramen says, as his grip on his palm tightens just a little. “It’s my favorite kind of dance.” 

_Your favorite…_

That was when Ramen almost twirled him around, and for a moment the world around him spun like a slow carousel. The blonde was now directly behind him, his head gently touching his ears. Light breaths exhaled as he felt his chest go in and out on his back. Though he knew Ramen was far from exhausted. 

“Relax,” he said, the smirk in his voice painfully obvious. His warm hands on his waist, prepared to make the next move. “Just go with it.” 

Kaizo would probably have no idea what _it_ meant. But there was no way out of this. The mission was too important for him to be backing out of this right now. 

“Do you trust me?” Ramen asked. 

And Kaizo found he was clinging on to every word. 

“I do.” 

****

The ship feels cold. 

Kaizo is only aware of the chill when he begins to feel shifty in the tux, his equally cold hands moving to the cuffs of his sleeves. He fastens the small, delicate button for what may be the fiftieth time today, certain the gold would rust at the rate he was going. 

“At ease, Captain.” 

Koko Ci has had his sunglasses fixated on the coordinates on screen, but has somehow picked up his disquiet. 

The captain sighed. “I’m fine, Koko Ci. Just- ” His sentence was cut as soon as Gopal let out a loud yelp of laughter at the back of the cockpit, the merry sounds of Pang and his friends filling the room. 

He wasn’t even going to bother turning around. Working with Pang’s squadron - or group of friends, more accurately described - for the second time on an undercover mission was something he wasn’t really looking forward to. 

It wasn’t even that they were incompetent. Working with Pang somehow always brought a chill in the air, and seeing him and his friends almost have a _good time_ on missions was something unfamiliar to Kaizo. 

“Don’t worry about Boboiboy’s squad,” Koko Ci said, reading his mind once again. “They’re there to back you up, when you need them.”   
  


“Right.” 

“And they will.” There was an unwavering confidence in Koko Ci’s voice, which Kaizo assumed was from the amount of time and trust he had with the group. 

“Understood.” 

That was when a hand placed itself on his shoulder, and it didn’t take five seconds to know who it was. 

“Yeah, Kaizo,” Ramen said, forcing Kaizo to look at him as he talked. Ramen wasn’t in a tux, but had an almost fitting white t-shirt with leather suspenders draped over his shoulders. It had been Yaya’s suggestion for their disguises to be somewhat varied instead of sticking to regular tuxes or dresses, and Kaizo had to admit that was quite a nice touch. She had good perspective. 

And Ramen… well. 

If it weren’t for the professional setting he would have told him he looked rather dashing. 

(No, he wouldn’t have. That would be letting Ramen’s ego go to his head. But it was the shoulders. His shoulders looked really broad when they weren’t covered up by protective padding. 

And his hair. His undercut in full view, the blonde fringe free and styled elegantly with gel. Given the disguise he didn’t need things like his helmet, but replaced it’s absence with vintage-framed sunglasses, with tinted red frames that hid his blue eyes from the rest of the universe. 

Or perhaps it was the perfume. Ramen had said something about it being Hugo Boss. He never understood more than half the things Ramen was saying. But it didn’t matter. It smelled good. 

_No._

It didn’t.) 

“We’ve rehearsed, and we know our battle plan. We’ll all be okay.” 

Kaizo half wants to make a response. A snide _maybe that’s what you think_ back, or _yeah, whatever_ because he seemed to be good at making people think he didn’t care. 

But his tongue remained in between his lips, the words in his throat idle. Instead he simply grunted, eliciting a little laugh from the blonde. 

“I’m obliged to ask, if you’re up for a question right now,” Ramen suddenly said, the tone in his voice shifting slightly. Kaizo simply nodded, waiting for it. 

“Are you seeing anyone at the moment?” 

If this were a sitcom, he would have spat out his coffee. _“What?”_

Ramen let his hand off his shoulder, and held out his palms defensively. “Woah! Just asking. But if it makes you uncomfortable-” 

“No, I’m not,” Kaizo snapped back. 

“You’re… not uncomfortable with the question?” Ramen asked again, his blue eyes filled with uncertainty. 

“No, you idiot. I’m not seeing anyone.” _Huh? That wasn’t supposed to come out that way. He meant to say he wasn’t okay with the question. What the fuck? Kaizo I swear to fucking-_

“Oh! Okay,” Ramen replied, and Kaizo couldn’t help but detect a hint of relief in those two words. 

“What about you?” Kaizo found himself asking, and Ramen shrugged. 

“Nein,” he simply said, and the captain raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I got into the habit of speaking Earth languages at random times. I’m not seeing anyone either.” 

“I see.” _Please don’t ask yourself why that fact is reassuring._

“But I bet lots of people would have indicated their interest to you, eh?” Ramen winked, like he knew something he didn’t.

“Well, no,” Kaizo shrugged helplessly. This conversation was way beyond him. “I’ve never really found the time to... entertain anyone.” 

“Or anything, apparently,” Ramen snorted, to which Kaizo raised an eyebrow. “Kidding!” 

That was when Koko Ci coughed, and Kaizo remembered he existed in this reality as a captain. 

“We’re close to _Exploitation Du Travail_ ,” their commanding officer said, the gruff nature of his authority returning and the imminent verity of what was to come settling into the air. Gather everyone up for a last debrief. The rest is up to all of you.” 

  
  


****

  
If it was anything Kaizo had yet to learn about wealth, is that no matter how much you hated it - you could still be extremely astounded by the extent of opportunity it was capable of providing. 

_Exploitation Du Travail_ was a lone mansion on a rather small, desolate planet - and for good reason. One, that it took up at least 75% hectares of the planet _just_ for it’s building. And two, because only the wealthiest in the galaxy were able to even rent the mansion. Events ranging from galas to birthday parties for the ruling class were organized here, and even for them it was a chance to feel like traditional royalty in the heyday of ever-evolving technological lifestyles. 

And what a sight it was. It looked like what you’d fully expect from a mansion, like something right out of a film. Deep red-brick victorian architecture, sticking out like a sore thumb in the vastness of the empty planet it reigned, as if it really were a king of its own land. It appeared to be somewhat old at first glance, but perhaps it was part of the upcoming illusion. Complete with a gate taller than life itself. 

He was getting nervous. 

Kaizo could feel his heart rate rising, feeling almost intimidated. He had been to Beyzos’ estate, which had its own sets of grandeurs - but the very presence of this mansion, which was set to be filled with people who could easily buy him _and_ his entire workplace off a market. It was beginning to feel eerie, a spine-chilling sensation he couldn’t shake off. 

“Hey.” Ramen said, and the world came back into view. 

Kaizo took his eyes off the building, and looked into Ramen’s eyes instead. 

“We’re going to turn this place upside down, rescue the power sphere, and get the hell out of here. I promise.” 

Kaizo nodded slowly, internalizing every word. It was quite rare that Kaizo ever felt apprehensive during missions. Usually tasks were done give and take, no questions asked. And he couldn’t put his finger on why this made him so uncharacteristic, feeling too many things at once. 

But this… this was helping. Sort of. 

And then Ramen did the unthinkable - which was in simpler terms, pressing his soft lips onto his left cheek. 

“The security guard is giving us the stink eye,” his partner whispered, and Kaizo saw him. A rather old-looking square headed alien donned in regular, blue-themed security clothing was in fact looking at them with a poisonous, sceptical look on his small face. 

“Just go with it,” Ramen said, and then they were holding hands. Kaizo’s right hand in Ramen’s, and the blonde’s left used to wave out to the alien. 

Wordlessly, the alien approached the gate. 

“Here for the auction?” They asked, that same poison leaking out of his voice. 

Kaizo used his own left to fish the invitation out of his pocket, and handed it to them. “I’m a business contact of Mr Beyzos. Here’s the proof of invite.” 

The security guard took a moment to skim over the card, until finally he said “Angel Eyes?” 

“Yes. Beyzos prefers calling his clients by an alias. Contractually I cannot give you my real name.” 

They raised an eyebrow, seemingly at ease with the invitation. But they eyed Ramen up and down as if their pupils were implanted with a scanner. “And who’s this?” 

“Oh! I’m so happy you asked that!” Ramen practically squealed. “I’m his husband. We just got married a month ago.” 

Kaizo’s eyes widened, but the painful grip that Ramen was pulling on the veins of his palms deterred him from making a scene. 

The unfortunately perceptive alien’s eyes flitted down onto their intertwined fingers, and to his dismay - there were matching rings on both of their ring fingers. Each with a small, but shining diamond on display. 

“Alright.” The lock of the gate was no ordinary one. It was coded, and as soon as the relevant keys were keyed in there was a _clunk_ sound, and the enormous gates finally opened its doors. 

“Welcome to _Exploitation Du Travail_ ,” the guard received them, in the most unwelcoming tone possible. “Enjoy your stay here.”

****

“Nut’s gadgets are so incredibly nifty,” Ramen commented as they walked into the vast entrance of the mansion. It was like walking right into _The Crown -_ the vast amounts of green, classic Greek-style statues of famous aliens of the past every few hectares. Even a fountain of angels bringing forth water just a few metres before the entrance. Kaizo would be lying if he said he didn’t feel like he was walking into monarchy, the immature feeling of gold on his head and feeling like a prince. 

“He is quite the genius,” Kaizo agreed, looking down at his fingers. The rings were ordinary on first glance, but the diamonds had a secret. Hidden in their sophisticated glimmer was a video recording device that videoed their every move. The tech team - Nut and his lackeys more specifically, and even Koko Ci would be monitoring their every move. Boboiboy’s team would be in the shadows and waiting for their signal, though Kaizo personally felt it would be a waste of their time. But naturally TAPOPS was a huge fan of being prepared. 

As a matter of fact, Nut had adorned them both in subtle gadgets that would help them through this mission. Ramen’s red-tinted, vintage glasses had a built in identity database - no one he would lay his eyes on would not be profiled immediately. Within Kaizo’s mouth was a clear retainer that would act as a voice transmitter, recording every single conversation that Kaizo would have to make. 

Nut had also remodeled his visors - the armour component that contained his energy powers was now modified to look like elegant glasses, rims plated with gold with a specialised chain dangling down to his shoulders.

And of course, both were also given analogue watches that were their SOS signal for Boboiboy’s team to pull through. The signal’s activation was through twisting the crown, but would also be triggered if the watch was destroyed. 

“Gosh. I feel like I’m in a spy film,” Ramen’s eyes glittered, as if he were a child. 

“Stay focused,” Kaizo reminded gently, suddenly realising they were still holding hands as they approached the equally large brown door that lay in front of them. 

And he felt safe, their fingers intertwined and Ramen’s skin leaving no hints of hesitation on his own. 

Kaizo opened the door, and it creaked out slowly to reveal its Narnia. 

What a universe it would be, neither Ramen and Kaizo would be prepared for. The first thing that grabbed Kaizo’s attention had been the ceiling that seemed to stretch out into an abyss, never ending. The architect had commissioned a master painter to bring his vision to life, for it was painted a deep, bright blue that looked so much like a sky. Fluffy clouds that looked too real to have been brought to existence by paint. Kaizo would never imagine clouds could even be alluring up till that point. 

And you could not get started on the room that lay ahead of them. This was a palace. Kaizo was certain it was a palace, for the walls and flooring were dipped in golds and whites. Windows painted in stained glass of biblical paintings, every minute detail captured in each individual piece. 

Intricate designs that traced the outlines of doors and the little crevices of walls. Pillars that stretched so high up that you’d have to spend days climbing it if you wanted, leading up the many chandeliers that hung on the sky. Each one decorated with it’s fair share of jewels and candles, providing the room with a deep vibrance that artificial lights lacked. 

And the people in the room fit right into this environment without a doubt. The elegant clothes, worth probably thousands or millions on each person, dorned with accessories and paired with the finest shoes. The space was filled with them, and it hadn’t occurred to Kaizo just how many of the wealthy really existed in the galaxy. 

_Stay on the mission, Kaizo,_ he repeated to himself, still internalizing every square area he would step into. 

That was when Ramen squeezed his hand again - though it wasn’t painful. It was more anxious this time around. 

“The auction should be beginning soon,” he muttered, obviously equally overwhelmed as Kaizo was. “If we can find Beyzos he’ll lead us there.” 

And as if on cue, in the midst of the crowd - Kaizo heard a rather familiar laugh. 

They made their way through, and found a circle of guests - as well as the man himself, all of which were seemingly amused and enjoying themselves. Macaroons in one hand, and a glass of wine in the other. 

That was when Jafar spotted Kaizo, and his eyes widened. 

“Angel Eyes!” He exclaimed, and his guests turned to attention. 

The rather balding humanoid - though his head was comfortably covered with an expensive, but rather obvious toupee - approached the partners with a large smile. And the very sight of him was beginning to remind Kaizo why he hated this entire scene in the first place. The white bow and suit he was in was probably enough to feed an orphanage, the authentic monocle on his left eye enough to fund a new building. 

“I was just talking about Carrot.Co to my guests here,” to which the surrounding aliens around him nodded approvingly. “You _have_ to tell them about your plans. I could not have conveyed it as well as you did over our meetings.” 

He’s gushing about this like a teenage girl prepared to unleash gossip, Kaizo thought. 

“And I see you’ve brought a plus one!” The self-made businessman exclaimed, like he had just realised Kaizo’s hand had been occupied with someone else’s. 

“Yes. This is my husband,” Kaizo gestured to the blonde, detesting the way he liked how the word rolled around in his tongue. Ramen smiled, and held out his other hand for the gajillionaire to shake. 

Jafar gasped dramatically at this piece of information. “You never mentioned you were married!” 

Kaizo shrugged offhandedly. “You never asked,” he replied, to which the gajillionaire nodded as if to say _fair, fair._

“I’m Rina,” Ramen greeted, and Beyzos shook his hand warmly. “Pleasure to meet thee Beyzos in person.” 

“Rina! What a… unique name,” Jafar commented, like the feminine sound of it didn’t quite match up with his _husband_ ’s masculine appearance. 

“My mother was expecting a daughter,” Ramen explained, with absolutely no hesitation. “But she got me instead. I like to think that she took one look at me and decided coming up with anything new would be a waste.” 

The gajillionaire laughed loudly. A rather ugly one, his breath catching in his throat like they were dangerously close to choking him. “Oh goodness. You’re funny. You’re very funny, Rina.” 

Kaizo only managed a nervous smile. He didn’t like the way his patrons were eyeing him strangely, the same way the security guard had. It felt like _everyone_ knew something was off with the both of them, but Ramen was definitely handling it better. 

“Anyhoo,” Ramen continued, as soon as Beyzos stopped laughing. “Where would the auction of yours be taking place?” 

“Ah yes,” the gajillionaire suddenly stood to attention, like he had just been reminded of it up till now. “It will be in this very hall, my dear. My husband will be hosting this year. Oh speaking of, have you met them yet, Angel Eyes?” Jafar suddenly turned around and looked into the vast hall, as if his husband would appear on sight. 

“Ili!” He called out, and as soon as that honorific was mentioned another humanoid came running up to him, though their garb was of a simple white dress and transparent heels. They had long, ebony hair tied up in a delicate bun, and their cheeks were blatantly powdered with lips glossed to the gods. 

“Yes, darling?” They said as they approached his husband, their palms naturally finding each other as they met again. 

“Meet my colleague, Angel Eyes,” he gestured, and they smiled at him politely. “And his husband, Rina.” 

“Pleasure to meet you both,” they greeted, and the two partners nodded. 

“You’ll be hosting?” Ramen asked, quickly getting down to business. 

“Oh yes!” They exclaimed. “We’ve decided to take a slightly different approach this year.” 

“How so?” 

“No need for formalities! No sitting down! Everyone should stand - quite literally - to attention this time round. We’ll set the stage in a while and the auction will begin.” They explained, getting fired up about the main event. 

“Alright, alright,” Ramen affirmed, though his eyes told Kaizo a different story. “Looking forward to it, Mx…?” 

“Ah! My name is Captain Ilism,” they chirruped, and Ramen nodded. “But please. Call me Ili for short. Like Eli, but with an ‘I’.”

“I’ll remember that,” he muttered, and the opposing husbands simply laughed heartily. 

“Oh, you will,” Jafar said. “You will.”

****

“Anyone on the Wanted List here at all?” Kaizo asked, as soon as they separated from the gajillionaire, getting purposely lost in the sea of the crowd. Each holding a glass of sparkling water in hand, opting out of consuming the alcohol. 

“Nope,” Ramen affirmed, tapping his frames for good measure. “They’ve really restricted who’s coming in and out of this place. I suppose not even the most skilled at money laundering could have made it into this fantasy.”

“So I suppose we don’t have to worry about making a scene, then.”

“Oh, we do.”

Kaizo raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“There may be no Wanted List individuals here. But something tells me we have to walk very carefully on these golden eggshells,” Ramen mused, eyeing the bubbles floating up into his drink.

Kaizo narrowed his eyes, and Ramen exhaled.

“I just have a bad feeling, that’s all,” Ramen said. “Something tells me we might not make it out of here swiftly.”

“I don’t think Beyzos is entirely innocent either.” Kaizo admitted, to which he felt a little embarrassed by. His instincts were failing him, an anxious mind almost clouding his judgement. Why _would_ he have been innocent at all? 

Ramen smiled, like Kaizo had just read his mind. “You think he’s out to kill us?” 

“Not if they find out what we’re really up to,” Kaizo said, as a-matter-of-factly.

That was when Ramen edged closer, their bodies in dangerously close proximity. He suddenly went in for his ears again and whispered, “I think they suspect we’re not who we say we are.”

_No kidding._ “Yup,” Kaizo muttered, remembering the way Jafar’s lackeys had looked at him. “They’re not as airheaded as I thought it would be.”

“I’m going to need you to trust me on whatever I might do next. And if you want to get mad at me, promise you’ll save it for after.”

“Okay.” Though Kaizo’s heart was beating wildly, and his chest filled with a sensation one could only describe as butterflies stirring inside of his ribcage.

An entire nest of them, as a matter of fact. 

That was when Ramen leaned in, and Kaizo found his lips were gently caressing his.

It seemed to be a Ramen thing he was a natural at. At being careful, capable of waiting for Kaizo to say yes without having to say it. And Kaizo also found his own lips sinking into the blonde’s, fitting into his firmly and naturally. Ramen’s hands snaked around his waist again, and Kaizo was melting at the very touch of it.

_Oh my god._

He shouldn’t be enjoying this. He shouldn’t be feeling _nice_ about this at all. He shouldn’t be kissing him back.

But then his own hands found the back of Ramen’s head, fingers wading on the fade of his undercut, almost tugging on his neck desperately. Tipping his head, and deepening the kiss like he was desperate.

(And perhaps he was. Kaizo couldn’t tell. Everything was so blurry and weird right now. But all the same he didn’t want this to end… just yet.)

That was when Ramen broke away, though his lips parted slowly and removed from his like an old key prying into a new lock.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, though his eyes were fixated on Kaizo’s lips in a rather unsubtle fashion. “Ili was looking at us strangely.” Kaizo let his eyes move toward the other end of the room, and Ili was in fact, looking right at them. Though they were on stage, allowing their assistants to set up. Their attention had clearly diverted once they had done what they did, their expression less cold. 

_Right. Ili._ “It’s fine,” Kaizo said. Though he certainly didn’t feel that way.

That was when Ili’s voice boomed throughout the room, and Ramen pulled him closer to his chest. Like he was trying to protect him, even though Kaizo didn’t need it.

Because it was all for show for now. 

“Welcome, welcome!” Their voice amplified with a microphone, a large smile on their face. “The auction will begin very soon! Please, get a drink for yourself. Tonight will be a night to remember. ”

****

The crowd began to clamor around in more organised groups as the auction was soon set to begin. Kaizo suspected this to have been premeditated. They were either families, friends, or organizations that had specific items in mind to buy off. Every group had been given a card with a number, which Kaizo expected was for easier identification. 

Though he wouldn’t be surprised. A power sphere was up for grabs tonight, and not even the filthy rich would be holding themselves back from keeping one for themselves - even if none of them had plans to violently wipe out the galaxy. 

“Should we bid?” Ramen asked, face filled with uncertainty. 

“Yes,” Kaizo affirmed. “But not on the power sphere.” 

“I suspected as much. Neither of our organizations can spare the millions or billions it might bid up to.” 

“Looks like tonight we’ll be doing the stealing.” Kaizo looked at his partner with a twinkle in his eye, his usually stiff lips now a wide smirk.

And Ramen returned that sentiment. “Well. They steal from people every day. I don’t see why they can’t experience that at least once in their lives.” 

Ditto to that, Kaizo thought. 

And Ili was a rather experienced auctioneer, if Kaizo could say so himself. He hadn’t been to enough of them to be able to discern what represented good auctioneering, but the gajillionare’s husband _was_ good at this. They treated the stage like it was theirs, their voice clear and booming. Warming up the crowd with the right jokes, eliciting cheers and noise. 

But they also knew how to keep suspense in the air - and consequently to keep everyone, Kaizo and Ramen included - on their toes. 

Thus far though - the auction seemed to be moving normally. They’d sold eight items thus far, ranging from antique vases, celebrity DNA and even a rare video game console that had been off the market for over a decade. 

“Where you’ll play that in this day and age I’ll never know,” Ramen commented. 

“Five million bucks though,” Kaizo whistled, and Ramen chortled softly. 

“Five million is pocket money here,” Ramen said. “Get used to it.” 

The auction droned on, the partners witnessing all the valuables being bought off like sweeping crumbs off a floor. Occasionally Kaizo or Ramen would raise their own hand and place a bid in an attempt to blend in, but to no one’s surprise they’d be swiftly outbid by the next hand raised. 

It seemed to be going on forever with no power sphere in sight. 

Just as Kaizo was beginning to feel like the mission was on the verge of being called off, Ili spoke. 

“Thank you everyone, for your wonderful presence and participation,” Ili acknowledged the crowd suddenly, after their assistant cartwheeled a remastered impressionist painting bought for about 7 billion. The crowd cheered, happy they were seen. 

“But,” Ili began, that one word eliciting the crowd to quiet down gradually. “I’m sure there is a.. Very special reason all of you are really here tonight. Though my wonderful dresses and my Beyonce-like presence has had some pretty wonderful reception from guests if I do say so myself.” 

The crowd laughed, and Kaizo heard Ramen chortle along. 

“And of course - my husband and I are not one to back out of our word. So here it is. The long-anticipated item of the night,” pausing for effect, to allow another assistant to wheel in what looked like a squarish silhouette under white cloth. 

The auctioneer ripped the red cloth off swiftly, and there it was. 

FortuneBot, it’s simple purple figure trapped within four walls of a square glass case. It had been powered down, lifeless and surrendered to its environment. 

“To those of you who might not be aware of what this power sphere is capable of, this unique AI lives up to its name by being able to accurately predict your future! Yes, that’s right! This bot can predict five possible events that _will_ precede you through algorithmic calculations. It’s reputed for its 98% success rate! It has launched the careers of other successful figures such as Eleen Musketeer, Will Fates and even others I am not allowed to mention!” 

The crowd was getting fired up. Obviously everyone wanted to bet on this, and a scene would possibly unfold itself. 

“We will start the bidding at 15 billion!” Ili cried, and the crowd went just about ballistic. Hands were being thrust in the air left and right, fervent attempts to make the biggest bid possible. 

Ili’s eyes darted all over the room, on the lookout for the best one. 

“Number 45 bids 18 billion!”

“Number 789 bids 25 billion!” 

“Goodness me! 234 is taking it up a notch! 40 billion!” 

“A new challenger! 568 is trying for 78 billion!” 

Kaizo heaved. This was beginning to stress him out. Every time he thought the bids were high they would just get higher. Was this what it was really like to live life with no bounds? 

That was when Ili paused, their eyes fixated on a point in the room. The audience followed suit, murmurs of wonder, trying to figure out who exactly had stopped their energy so abruptly. 

“Uh, we have…” Ili’s initial charisma faded as they tried to register just who it was. “A bid going for 150 billion. To the gentleman in the white mask.” The crowd’s murmurs got louder, at the prospect of an unnumbered guest bidding. 

“Quick. Get a visual if you can,” Kaizo alerted Ramen, who was already scanning the room for the anonymous bidder. Standing on his toes, eyes out into the crowd.

“Goddamnit,” Ramen mumbled, returning back to his partner after a few moments. “They’re lost in the crowd. The glasses need to see their whole profile to identify him properly.” 

“Nevermind,” Kaizo reassured, though Ramen still looked somewhat troubled. 

“Would anyone else like to make any final bids!” Ili exclaimed, trying to revert themself back to their stage persona. The room had gone deathly quiet, and the microphone feedback bounced off the walls, their voice too loud of an echo on its own. 

Another hand was raised. “Number 453 raises you for 190 billion!” 

That was when Ili paused again. The man had raised his hand once more. 

“250 billion,” Ili stated, clearly at a loss for words. The auction was going quite differently than expected this time round. 

“Going once, going twice,” Ili certified, the lack of objection from the audience a resounding ‘no’. 

“And sold. FortuneBot is now the property of the.. Gentleman in the white mask, sold for 250 billion.” 

There was only silence filling the room. The excitement of the auction had worn off, and it was getting uncomfortable. 

“Alright,” Ili continued. “That concludes tonight’s annual auction!” 

A hesitant applause, followed by the host clearing their throat.

“And now, I’m going to need you folks to clear out this room. If you’ve been disappointed at any point, now’s your chance to reclaim the night. The ball is about to begin!” 

****

“New target,” Ramen said, as they quickly stalked off together as soon as the audience was dismissed. 

“Do we need a new plan?” Kaizo asked. 

“Not entirely. But your senses are going to have to be severely heightened this time round. Neither of us know who it is, and I can’t profile them. All we have is a white mask as a clue. And it can’t be anyone in this party. I’m going to assume they somehow broke in?” Ramen’s thoughts seemed to be going round in circles, his stress displaying through his hands on his forehead, trying to think. 

“No,” Kaizo said. “Judging from the security guard and your previous profiling - I think our guy could be someone in this room. They were definitely invited.” 

“They were invited… yet they weren’t given a number for the auction?” 

Shit. That was true. “I’m guessing they could have purposely ditched the number to draw attention.” 

“Mm.. that’s true.” 

“But why do that? He could have easily just outbid the other person continuously.” 

“Whoever he is, he’s definitely got an ulterior use for the power sphere. You wouldn’t be trying to stay anonymous the way he had if you’d be fine with just.. Taking it for yourself.”

“I’d suppose so,” Ramen heaved. 

“A white mask isn’t much… but it’s something,” Kaizo offered, a little disheartened that he couldn’t think as fast right now. 

“That’s true. Let’s keep on the lookout for that. For now…” Ramen looked at Kaizo knowingly, and his heart sank into his stomach. 

“Let’s focus on drawing some attention to ourselves, sweetheart,” the blonde crooned, the mood quickly shifting. He knew Ramen was trying to distract himself, and that this ordeal was going differently than both of them had expected. If it weren’t for their circumstances, he knew Ramen would have done the exact same to just rile him up. 

But… he wasn’t riled up. Not in the pissed off sense, like he usually would have. It was almost cute, the flirtatious way that Ramen usually tried to say things. The way it came off almost naturally. No wonder people - or at least he assumed they were - were drawn to him. He showed everything about himself yet nothing at all. 

It was attractive. He could admit that. 

Kaizo nodded, though with an eyebrow raised to present skepticism. 

“You remember our battle plan?” 

The captain rolled his eyes. “Yes, Ramen. Three weeks of suffering through rehearsals with you has it imprinted on my brain vessels.” 

A twinkle in his eye, and strong grip around his arm to lead the way into the ballroom. 

“Excellent.” 

****

If Kaizo had assumed walking into _Exploitation Du Travail_ had been the beginning of walking into a fairy tale, the ballroom intended to challenge that thought. The common space they had spent the auction in had been waves of yellowish gold, but the ballroom was dipped in rosey gold in contrast, softening the atmosphere.

There were more windows nearer to the ceiling, allowing more leeway for natural light to flood into the room. A renaissance depiction of the Dionysus drinking rituals painted over their heads, another realm in itself. Exclusively jewelled chandeliers were closer to the dance floor than in the common space. The smooth floor was shining clean, with squares impressed in a black and repetitive pattern. 

To top it all off, a string quartet was in a corner of the room, awaiting their cue to begin playing as they watched the guests stream in. Kaizo noticed their rather stoic expressions, holding their instruments close like they were weapons. How odd. 

That was when Jafar himself went into the middle of the dancefloor, with his husband at the hip. He had a champagne glass in hand, and he tapped it with a spoon to make some noise. 

“Thank you, everyone. For being here, despite all the unexpected events that’s just happened,” the gajillionaire said, and the room was filled with applause. 

“And for now, I only wish for you to enjoy the night as much as you possibly can. We will start off this ball with a special dance, by me and my husband.” He looked towards the quartet, of which the alien holding the cello nodded. They whispered to their violin counterpart, and this seemed to be enough memo for the rest of the group to understand. 

“I’d like to ask if any of you would like to join us in this dance,” Ili implored the audience. For a moment there was only silence, an almost apprehensive one. Possibly at the prospect of being scrutinized, as the spotlight would only be on them. 

And Kaizo knew he didn't have to act on this. 

“We would absolutely love to join you,” Ramen spoke up, and the gajillionaire smiled. 

Though this time, Kaizo noticed that there was something about that smile that he just couldn’t trust. 

Kaizo had seen evil many times. It always resided within the eyes, glistering within the pupils and pierced through you if you looked hard enough. He was certain he had at some point given that look to others himself, when being a rebel was his life’s respite. 

That look alone was enough to recognise that there was more to someone than what you saw. A _lot_ more. 

Slowly some couples made their way out the crowd, to settle into the dance floor. Kaizo could see figures of tuxes, dresses, and other elegant clothes filling the space. Bodies already holding onto each other firmly, safe in the security of their partners. 

Ramen led him by hand, and for the first time in the night every single living body was on the same foreground. In this ballroom, there were no hierarchies. Only the dancers take the stage. 

But Ramen didn’t immediately get them into position, like they had rehearsed. He stood a foot away from the captain, the crowd’s eyes glaring onto every movement they were making on the vast dance floor. And for a moment Kaizo’s heart skipped a beat, anxious and verging on angry all the same. _Come on. Just like we rehearsed._

Instead, he let out a hand, his chest going downwards only slightly as if on the verge of a bow. 

“Will you dance with me?” Ramen asked. The room has fallen to an almost respectful silence, for the music, their voices in regular volume but bouncing off the walls all the same. 

Kaizo can fully acknowledge his heart is going _wild._ The lines between carrying out this mission or _ballroom dancing with Ramen_ were getting extremely blurred. 

He can’t help but smile, albeit a slight one. And he knows everyone in this room can hear him. 

So Kaizo decides to go with it. 

“And what’s going to happen if I don’t?” Kaizo implores, even though they both know the outcome. 

Ramen’s smirk returns to his face, along with amused murmurs in the crowd. 

“I think I’d rather die, than pass up a chance to dance with you.” 

“Aw, what the hell.” This response gets a chortle from Ramen and the small little laughs from the crowd turned audience. 

But he takes his hand delicately, feeling Ramen’s warm ones rest on his cold palm.

The blonde leads him to what seemed like the middle of the dance floor. In the midst of the other couples already prepared to dance, and the gajillionaire couple directly parallel to them. 

Jafar let go of his husband to elicit two light claps, and the quartet began to play. 

Kaizo is the one that takes the step forward. Placing his right hand onto his shoulder, prompting Ramen’s onto his waist. Their left hands meeting in security, palms against palms. 

The notes emitted from the string start off strong. Not even the musicians are wasting any time: it’s _fast,_ and they have to begin almost immediately. They make simple movements in the space, catching each other into the rhythm, locked into each other's grasp and fiercely searching each other’s eyes for the right signals. _One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three._

It’s Tchaikovsky. Kaizo can remember that much. Ramen had taught him… so much over the past few weeks, things he would never have imagined he’d ever try to learn about. 

Like what they had just done. Kaizo could see - it was setting the stage, acknowledging each other as partners. “Entrée,” Ramen had called it. Though it wasn’t _really._ Simple ball dancing was never going to match up what a real pas De Deux entailed. But Ramen in his usual fashion, had been infodumping while he taught Kaizo how to get on his feet for this. 

_He’s good at this,_ Kaizo can’t help but think. The way his grip on his hands were right, not too tight and not too loose, making sure that every step mattered. Looking right into his eyes as they progressed throughout the space, flashing questions with each time they whirled around other dancers. 

_Is this okay?_ Ramen asked as his eyes glimmered under the candle lights, the waltz evolving from simply moving rhythmically to incorporating language into their hands and arms. Responding to the music and to each other. 

And it is. Kaizo desperately wants to tell him this. Because everything about what was happening right now was feeling like it was something they did every day. Like they hadn’t rehearsed this for hours on end, Kaizo grumbling constantly and Ramen laughing and making fun of him. 

They were circling across the floor, their bodies almost ignoring the existence of all the other dancers in the space. Kaizo feels like it’s really just… _them._ Everyone else frozen in time, their calculated steps moving ever so delicately, like they were really floating. 

This was _Adagio_. Kaizo was realising the strings in the quartet were getting slower, the notes almost sombre yet so terribly seductive all the same.

And then he felt Ramen’s strong hands grip tightly onto his waist, and then Kaizo is quite literally being swept off his feet - off the dance floor, like a delicate rose with thorns from a vase. The world is spinning, and Kaizo can’t tell anymore if that was literal or metaphorical. 

Then he finds himself being let down slowly, each second being lowered feeling light years away. The bright lights of the room dimmed in his vision. 

It feels like the entire room has gone dark, and the glow only exists for two. 

Their faces are so dangerously close again, and Kaizo can feel Ramen’s breath on his chin. His lips no longer in a knowing smile, but with something else entirely. Their foreheads meet, both of their skin sources burning up to hell. 

_Can we stay here forever?_ Kaizo wonders, and for once he doesn’t push that thought away. _Is it okay if this moment lasts for as long as it will?_

“Darling,” Ramen breathes, like he’s afraid of his own words. “We’re being watched.”

There are murmurs in the crowd watching them, and Kaizo is brought back to reality once more. 

And through the corner of his eye he saw - the eyes of the gajillionaire and his husband watching them as they made their every move, Beyzos already losing focus of the performance. The suspicion wasn’t subtle, the ebony eyes behind the monocles hollow and unforgiving. 

“Follow my lead,” Ramen says, and for what feels like the third time in his life Kaizo complies to an order. 

They keep moving in the space, though this time everything seemed to accelerate. From the music, the other existing bodies, and even themselves.

The surreal and magical element of the dance had disappeared. Business was back in session. 

And it would seem the universe was trying to decide who’s favor they wanted to work with. All of a sudden they were dancing in what felt like dangerous proximity to each other, the gajillionare’s eyes and breath going wild and his husband with an anxious look on their face, trying to keep up with him. 

That was when Ramen let him go, and Kaizo understood. 

_Variation._ This was a chance to separate, and in their mission language switch partners. And Beyzos seemed to have gotten the same idea, letting go of his spouse and letting himself loose onto the dance floor. 

Kaizo found himself in the arms of Ili, who’s eyes could not veer away from anxious ignorance.

“Is something going on?” The auctioneer whispered, full of genuine concern. 

And how Kaizo wished he could crush his gadgets and take Ili away from all of this. His own suspicions of Beyzos were getting higher and higher and it felt terribly unfair to witness a loved one being possibly deceived in real time. 

That was when he led them away from the dance floor, and back into the crowd of normalcy. 

The other dancers seemed to have understood this. Or at least, picked up that there was something wrong. Because one by one the couples began to clear, and eventually it was only Ramen and Beyzos in the space, each on the end of the circle.

“Rina,” the gajillionaire spoke, his voice in a low tone but booming across the silence that fell across the room. Only the music was still going on, ignoring the rest of the world. 

“Jafar,” Ramen stated simply. His blue eyes flashing behind the reds.

The jig was almost up. 

That was when Ramen stretched his arms into an arabesque, and Kaizo knew. 

It was the _Coda._ The grand finale, and for whatever reason this man was crazy enough to challenge him. Crazy enough to go all the way, and finish what they had both started. 

Sometimes - right now especially - Kaizo really liked that about him.

It was showing in the music as well. The quartet’s notes getting faster and faster, and Ramen was making sure his movements kept up to this speed. Peacocking, almost. Because nothing about this was subtle. Almost floating in the space he reigned, making the air he breathed in was involved by jumping light on his toes, demanding everyone to look at him. 

And for whatever reason, Jafar’s responses still shocked Kaizo all the same. Responding to Ramen’s grandiose movements with his own, pirouetting as the music broke the speed limit, audible gasps elicited from his grace and energy. 

His partner seemed to acknowledge this weird battle of wits. Ramen proceeded to make his own sets of spins, though somehow even he had gotten faster, like he was trying to one-up Jafar’s movements with his skill.

His chest was heaving immensely, and Kaizo was suppressing the urge to go ahead and try to stop him. But they had to see through this till the end. 

Even the music seemed to be on the verge of its end to the score. The notes went high and low simultaneously, and the gajillionaire understood this. There were a few moves Kaizo couldn’t recognise, but Beyzos seemed to be paying all of his attention to Ramen, the moves almost complementary to the pirouettes. 

And Ramen took this as a sign to end this. Both of them acknowledging each other’s presences in the space.

Ramen took the gajillionaire by the waist, and the man took this opportunity for a final whirl around, allowing a quick _lift_ as they broke away. 

Ramen was now on his knees, his palm to accept the gajillionaire. It felt like a tableaux, a moment in time that they were about to reenact to signify the end of this dance. 

And at first Kaizo saw it. Both of Beyzos’ hands on Ramen’s cheek, as if Ramen were the one submitting to him. 

Kaizo’s guard had been let down for a second, that was when it happened. 

The gajillionaire removed a palm from Ramen’s cheek, and at first his hand was in the air, his body following suit. For a moment the gajillionaire disappeared, replaced by the silhouette of a graceful swan. The final notes of the score released into the air, disrupting the vibrations. 

His hand then reached for his pocket, and a pistol was now on Ramen’s head. 

****

“Well,” Ramen said, as the pistol moved along with his head with each nod, ready to eliminate him. “I sure wasn’t expecting that.” 

The crowd was now in a frenzy, the mere existence of a gun causing panic. Murmurs of uncomfortable shifting and confusion, because the night had gone from bad at the auction to getting a lot worse. 

But Kaizo stood his ground. He needed to. 

“Rina, Rina,” The gajillionaire tutted, and Kaizo’s heart lurched at the sight of his fingers on the trigger. 

“I don’t know who you are, but your name is definitely not Rina,” the gajillionaire sighed, like he had been through this before. This might need intervention, Kaizo remembered. His fingers thumbed through the watch’s crown, which was betraying him in such a crucial moment with his sweaty palms and refusal to adjust, _shit shit shit…._

“Angel Eyes,” he suddenly called out. 

Kaizo took a step forward, feeling the eyes of the crowd on his back. 

“Tell me who you both really are or I shoot your husband in the head,” Beyzos almost growled, tightening his grip onto the gun. Ramen looked at him desperately, his eyes begging the opposite. _Don’t compromise,_ his eyes screamed. 

“Rina is innocent,” Kaizo found himself saying. “I dragged him into this, so let him go.” 

“So only one of you is the lying little Louise?” Jafar crooned, though the gun didn’t move. 

“Yes,” Kaizo said, hoping his voice wasn’t wavering. “My name is Kaizo. I’m an agent from TAPOPS.” 

The gajillionaire only raised an eyebrow. Like his name rang a bell but not entirely. “Whatever,” he scoffed, already moving on. “Whatever you’re here for, I won’t let you have it.” 

“We’re not here for anything,” Ramen retorted, and the gun pressed onto his forehead even deeper. 

“Please tell me the truth, you two. You do not snoop around my event and expect me to have mercy,” Beyzos said.

Kaizo knew there was nothing getting through this man anymore. He couldn’t bear it, with Ramen’s life on the line like this. And it was his eyes - the simple browns they had met at the beginning of the party now hollow and dark. Devoid of emotion, almost. 

This was the real Jafar Beyzos, and everyone was beginning to see it. 

“FortuneBot,” Kaizo said calmly, and he raised his eyebrow. “I’m here for the power sphere.” 

“I don’t suppose you were too poor to auction it off like anyone else,” Beyzos remarked, and the captain couldn’t resist a _tch_. What an asshole. 

“So what were you going to do?” The gajillionaire implored. “Steal it from the last bidder?” 

“Just let Rina go,” Kaizo dodged. “We’ll compromise the mission. Let him go.” 

“But you do know who the last bidder was,” Beyzos pushed, and his heart rate was beginning to pick up, getting louder and louder in his ears. The gun is still on Ramen’s head, fingers still on the trigger. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” the gajillionaire sighed. And that was when he removed something from under his jacket, and there it was. 

The white mask, like it was something out of an opera. Only capable of covering half of his face, but enough to give him anonymity in such a crucial moment. Even his own husband couldn’t recognise him in the crowd. 

Ramen’s eyes widened, and Kaizo silently begged him not to react. 

“And yes,” Jafar continued. “You won’t be leaving with the power sphere.” 

That was when it happened. He lifted his gun off Ramen’s head, ready to use his hands for another purpose: and the blonde shot up, quickly getting on his feet. 

“Kaizo, the gun!” Ramen exclaimed, and Kaizo understood. 

And in this exact moment Ramen caught the gajillionaire by his own wrists, taking Beyzos by surprise. 

“What in the-” 

But before he could react, Ramen’s grip had made him lose his own, and his pistol dropped onto the floor, and a quick swerve of Ramen’s feet rolled it across the dance floor and onto Kaizo’s shoes. 

And Kaizo quickly scooped the firearm into his palm, and pointed it directly at the gajillionaire, who was now in Ramen’s grip. 

“So this is how it ends?” Beyzos spat, trying to release himself from Ramen’s arms, but was evidently failing. “Oh, Angel Eyes. I was honestly starting to like you, you know.” 

“They all do.” Kaizo muttered, the gun still on its target. 

“I know you lot,” Beyzos exclaimed. “You and your moral high grounds. You wouldn’t dare shoot me.” 

“Wouldn’t I?” Kaizo crooned this time, feeling his own fingers wrap around the trigger. “Because there have been multiple times where I would have loved to shoot you.” 

He can hear it. The murmurs of the crowd, expressing their unease. He wondered if people recognised him now. The esteemed captain who never dared took a life, up till this moment. 

He put on a show of dangling it by its handle, then proceeding to place it back onto his palm. 

The hollowness has been replaced by fear, a bead of sweat trickling down the powerful man’s cheek. 

He really thinks he’s going to die, Kaizo realised. He would never actually shoot someone… but even then.

What worth was Beyzos’ life really? Especially in a moment like this, where everyone knew just exactly who he was? 

Kaizo’s hands were beginning to hold the hand grip more tightly. The trigger was enticing. If he pulled it, the gajillionare’s life would be no more. 

And perhaps he deserved it. 

That was when Ili stepped out, placing a palm onto Kaizo’s shoulder, looking directly into their husband’s eyes. 

“Honey,” they started, the word barely a whisper. 

“Please don’t shoot him,” they begged, their lively voice from earlier cracking like glass. “I’ll do anything.” 

Ramen looked at Kaizo, and Kaizo looked at Ramen. And both their looks were the same. _Do we trust them?_

“Hand over the power sphere to us and he’ll be alive by the end of the night,” Ramen stated simply. A hiss was elicited from the gajillionaire, indicating Ramen had tightened his grip. 

Ili nodded, understanding the situation. 

****

Ili led them out of the ballroom and into a hall, leading all three of them to another world. Though this time they had properly tied up the gajillionaire, for no one trusted he would behave on his own. 

The power sphere was kept in a study, as were all the other items of the auction. Apparently as per their rules the items would have only been given out by the end of the night, and to their respective owners to prevent anything from happening. 

And of course, being in _Du Travail_ the study was by no means ordinary. It was larger than any office Kaizo had ever been in, lined with bookshelves and a large fireplace. Portrait paintings of great philosophers and thinkers, lined with golden picture frames. 

The power sphere was, of course, still wrapped under the glass case it had been living in since it came under Beyzos’ care. 

Ramen lifted the purple robot out slowly, and as if it picked up on its surroundings it powered up on its own, blue eyes blinking out into the world. 

“Hello,” it squeaked, eyeing everyone in the room curiously. “How may I help you today?”

“Not today, little buddy,” Ramen said, eliciting a look of confusion on the robot’s eyes. “Kaizo’s gonna take you somewhere safe, and then we’ll explain everything.” 

“Goody,” FortuneBot chirruped. “So no one needs my fortunes for the day?”

Kaizo looked at Ramen, and the blonde smiled sadly. The robot hadn’t a single idea it was being exploited for the entirety of its life, and seemed to have accepted its only use for fortune telling for the people who didn’t need it. 

“Power down now,” Kaizo said, gently. And the robot complied, losing its life once more and settling itself into Ramen’s arms as if it were a baby. 

“Staying on top requires more work than you think,” Jafar sighed, soon as the robot was only mere metal now. Ramen rolled his eyes.

“What use for FortuneBot do you even have?” Ramen asked. “You have all the money anyone could possibly want.” 

“I could have had it all! It was Ili’s idea to auction it off but… I realised I couldn’t let anyone else have it! I could’ve easily been part of the galaxy’s biggest money empire!” the gajillionaire gestured with his head, rather unsuccessfully. 

“Jafar,” Ili said, before anyone else could chime in. “No more, please.” 

And Kaizo knew the man wanted more to say. But his husband’s earnesty for all of this to stop seemed to be more overpowering than losing the thing that would have made him more powerful.

So for once the gajillionaire said nothing, letting himself be led out by Ili. 

“So,” Ramen said, soon as the door was closed and the only people left in the room were two soldiers, a powerful robot and various valuable antiques. “Should we call for backup now?” 

****

The ship came for them as soon as Kaizo stepped on the watch, breaking the metal and setting off the system within it. 

“Good job both of you!” Commander Koko Ci greeted them as they boarded the ship, with Pang standing next to him with his hands behind his back. 

“Thanks,” Kaizo said nonchalantly, and Pang cleared his throat. 

“Congratulations, Captain,” he said. “We saw everything that happened, and you both did… really well.” Kaizo nodded at his statement, though now he was unsure about the word _everything._

“Yeesh,” Ramen interjected, the power sphere still in his arms. “You could do so much more than that, you dummy.” 

“What?” 

“Say thank you! Like any other sane person!” Ramen exclaimed, and Pang shook his head. 

“It’s fine, sir,” Pang insisted, but Ramen rolled his eyes, and Kaizo began to feel the exhaustion suddenly settling into his body when normal life came rushing back. 

He sunk into the chair next to the pilot’s, a long breath exhaled as his weight fell into the rather flat cushion. His tux jacket spilled itself onto the floor from his arm’s grip and he let it be. It could be washed anyway. 

It was all over. 

He didn’t need to think about Beyzos and his gigantic empire, he didn’t need to think about _Du Travail_ and its wonders it easily ensnared him in. 

He didn’t need to think about dancing anymore, let alone with… 

“You okay?” 

As if on cue Ramen appeared into his peripheral vision, blocking the view of the vast galaxy in front of him. His soft hair now ruffled and messy, a ridge on his forehead from the gun that had been pressed onto his delicate skin.

For whatever reason, that made Kaizo feel a little sad. 

But his warm smile burned into Kaizo’s chest, making up for the mess they both were. Hands placed on his knees as he crouched to be on Kaizo’s level. 

“Mmm,” Kaizo found he could manage. His eyelids were getting heavier, body slowly surrendering to the chair’s inertia. The capability to do absolutely nothing weighing on his chest, and for once he’s thankful for it. 

“Tired.” 

“I know, sweetheart. Go to sleep.” 

“I don’t wanna… What if something happens…” He tries to argue, but nothing comes out right. 

“It’s all over now. Nothing’s going to happen, Kaizo.” Ramen’s voice is so.. soft. He wants to keep hearing it until he loses all sense of consciousness. If he should die right now this was the last thing Kaizo wanted. 

“Say it again,” Kaizo mumbled, and unbeknownst to him Ramen's eyes widened for a moment. 

“Say what?” Ramen whispered. 

“My name.” He wanted to keep hearing it from his lips. His name when put out into the world, acknowledged he was alive and breathing. His name, from Ramen’s lips, spoken like soft litany. 

“Oh, baby.” He says, almost like it’s an apology. 

The last thing he heard was Ramen, laughing. Softly, little breaths escaping his body and a small smile on his face. Before his eyelids started to weigh sandbags and shut him off from the rest of the world. 

“Goodnight, Kaizo.”

  
  


*****

_One week later_

  
  


Let’s get one thing right: Kaizo doesn’t like - or rather, _absolutely hates_ , parties. 

Perhaps that came with doing most of your professional work solo, accustomed to yourself and your own thoughts that the clamour of bodies and voices could be overwhelming. Or perhaps it was just introversion, which seemed to fit Kaizo’s personality just fine. 

For whatever reason, Kaizo was standing in a training arena filled with TAPOPS staff. Streamers in his hair, covering the floor. Staring at the banner that said **“CONGRATS ON YOUR SUCCESS!”** , which can’t evade him from mixed feelings. Probably because it was obvious that it had been Pang’s friends that had decorated the banner, what with the loopy letters that were of different sizes. 

There’s music, and there’s dancing. And everyone seemed to be having a good time, except for him.

And it’s not that he doesn’t want to have a good time. It’s a surprise party. He’s supposed to be grateful. Happy, even. Everyone had heard how Ramen and him had retrieved the power sphere without using their powers, let alone pry it off from a man that hoarded power over the universe. 

Beyzos on the other hand had been let off. TAPOPS had been conflicted on whether or not to apprehend him for holding a power sphere hostage, but in actuality he hadn’t exactly committed a heinous crime. But the auction itself had been a bust, and there were tabloid articles floating around of people boycotting his brand and his sales possibly going down. 

But maybe it’s just weird. Maybe he’s just used to completing one mission and moving on, seeing no particular significance in his work. It’s just work. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“What’s up with you, o mighty space rebel?” 

Kaizo blinks, and it’s Ramen. He’s here, standing in front of him with a red cup in hand. He wasn’t in uniform, given he didn’t need to be. But he wore the same red and white shirt and pants combo he had worn during their rehearsals. 

And it makes his heart ache.

“Nothing,” Kaizo mutters, the music getting a little too loud all of a sudden. Ramen only raised an eyebrow, but downs his drink. A trickle gets on his chin, and it's red. Probably fruit punch. 

“Why are you still here anyway?” Kaizo asks, trying to divert the topic away from him. “Doesn’t TEMPUR-A need you?” 

Ramen shrugs. “Not at the moment.”

For a moment they don’t say anything. Maybe because there isn’t much to say. They haven’t really spoken for the week Ramen had been in the TAPOPS vicinity, because Kaizo can’t find the right words. 

Because every time he looked at him, he just…. 

“Okay. It’s a party. Let’s play a game, you and me.” Ramen suddenly says, and Kaizo raises an eyebrow. 

“What sort.” 

“Oh, nothing complicated, really. Truth or dare is all.” Ramen says, though the nonchalance is worrying Kaizo. 

“Sure.” 

“So. Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Are you enjoying yourself right now?” 

Huh? Kaizo looks at him puzzlingly, and Ramen only motions for him to answer. 

“No. Not really.” 

“Okay. Cool. Your turn.” 

“Right. Truth or dare?” 

“Dare,” Ramen says, almost immediately.

“I dare you… to…” Kaizo trails off. Because the things that are coming into his mind are not things you should ask of someone 

_I dare you to stay. I dare you to stay as long as you want. I dare you to kiss me again, because the taste of it hasn’t left my lips, and I want to feel it. I want it, badly._

_I dare you, to tell me you want me._

Ramen only smiles. “Dare me to do something _you_ want to do. Right now. What do you really want to do, if we’re not in this cheesy party?” 

“Leave.” 

“Where would you like to go?” 

“I don’t know. Anywhere else, really. Maybe somewhere quiet.” 

“Anyone you want to take with you?”

“You,” Kaizo says, and he knows he can’t bring it back into his mouth. 

And so Kaizo finds Ramen’s hand being extended to him. The pale palm that had guided him through the mission, even if it wasn’t his in the first place. 

The same hands that held him when they danced. 

And he takes it, all warm skin against his own cold ones and everything. 

  
  
  


**** 

  
  


Ramen led him to the rooftop, and Kaizo isn’t entirely surprised by it. 

They’d had their fair share of rooftop moments back when they were both younger. Kaizo remembers them all fondly. Some evenings spent together in silence, some afternoons they practiced sparring together because they simply didn’t want to be in class. 

Lots of good memories. He can vouch for that. 

“Quiet enough for you?” Ramen asks, and Kaizo nodded silently. 

Because while the activity on the inside was bustling, one could always vouch for complete silence on the outside. Just the view of the universe before you, and maybe some ships bustling by here and there. 

And then there was Ramen.

Maybe it’s the calmness of the outside, that makes Kaizo feel weirdly sure of himself. His thoughts felt like they were slowly decluttering, and everything felt clearer than it should be. 

“Ramen,” he says, and then Ramen looks at him.   
  


And he’s beautiful, as he always were. His eyes so painfully earnest, almost glowing under the lights the stars above provided and telling you everything you needed to know about what he was thinking. 

But there’s just… something about him. Right now, that feels so much more special. 

“Dance with me,” Ramen suddenly says, bringing his body closer and holding his waist safely. 

And Kaizo knows it's not a question.

Not that he would refuse him if it had been asked anyway. But their bodies are almost melting as they meet again, their shadows becoming siamese. And Ramen’s voice disrupting the vibrations in the air, their feet moving along in the rhythm they had learnt over the weeks they had spent together.

_Stars shining bright above you,_

_Night breezes seem to whisper, “I love you.”_

Kaizo didn’t know the song. He would probably never understand half the things that came out of Ramen’s mouth sometimes. But as Ramen held him, their feet following along the silent command of backwards and forwards. Bodies swaying only ever so slightly, waltzing around the floor beneath them. 

Like it was something they did everyday. 

_Birds singing in the sycamore trees,_

_Dream a little dream of me._

It’s beginning to go a lot more slowly now. Whether it was their movements, or just time itself. Kaizo had no way of telling. But he found he couldn’t care less, as their lips met again and everything just sort of _settled._

Because he wanted him. 

And he was telling Ramen this through his lips, with the way they met so calmly yet so explosively all the same. Neither of them needed to doubt anything that was happening, and he can vouch for this as their lips edge into each other’s deeper with every passing second. Just filled with want, and maybe even more. 

And Kaizo is, by all means, just so perfectly fine with that. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
